


courage coated

by kagako



Category: Super Sentai Series, 魔進戦隊キラメイジャー | Mashin Sentai Kiramager
Genre: Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, hand holding, kind of?, literally just tamejuuru being cute bc i said so, prob ooc bc we only have 10 eps but its fine, the lightest...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagako/pseuds/kagako
Summary: Tametomo isn’t sure what possesses him to step forward and take Juuru’s hand in his own. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t know what Juuru is talking about, always the eccentric leader with bright eyes and a wide smile, and Tametomo thinks,maybe that’s why,as he tells Juuru hedoesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Relationships: Atsuta Juuru & Imizu Tametomo, Atsuta Juuru/Imizu Tametomo, Imizu Tametomo/Atsuta Juuru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	courage coated

**Author's Note:**

> we may only have 10 episodes but how could i not completely lose my mind when tametomo was so gentle with juuru's hand in episode 8?????
> 
> this was born from that.
> 
> enjoy!

Tametomo isn’t sure what possesses him to step forward and take Juuru’s hand in his own. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t know what Juuru is talking about, always the eccentric leader with bright eyes and a wide smile, and Tametomo thinks, _maybe that’s why,_ as he tells Juuru he _doesn’t know what he’s talking about._ Tametomo still isn’t sure, though, and while that may be true, he still takes a moment to curl Juuru’s fingers that had been spread in a peace sign to join the others, cradling Juuru’s hand in his own.

A silent apology; some kind of unconscious desire?

Tametomo has a feeling, now. It dons on him, slowly but surely, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t confuse him at least a little bit; that little bit of fondness that tugged at his chest.

He glances up, uncaring or unaware of their fellow Kiramager’s around them, and fights the way his lips want to twitch upward in a smile at the look on Juuru’s face. The action stings at the scrape on his cheek, but he figures it’s okay; it wasn’t the first time it’s happened, and he’s sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Juuru looks surprised—his eyes wide, his lips parted the tiniest bit. It was such a different expression than normal that Tametomo couldn’t help but commit it to memory as he let Juuru’s hand go.

He had only held Juuru’s hand for a moment, but it felt as though it lasted forever.

Even as the enemy hollers for their attention, and even as they’re transforming, his hands seem to burn.

***

“What are you doing?” Tametomo asks a week later.

Juuru squeaks, eyes comically wide as he spins around toward Tametomo’s voice. He scrambles to hide something, and whatever that something was, it rattled _a lot._ Immediately, the alarms in Tametomo’s head went off, even as Juuru replies, indignantly, “What?! Nothing! I’m not doing anything!”

Tametomo squints at him. He’d walked into HQ only to find Juuru just… _sitting there,_ hunched over _._ “That’s what I mean,” Tametomo says. He walks forward and stops in front of Juuru, crossing his arms. Usually, no matter where Juuru was, he’d be hunched over, scribbling away on some kind of paper, be it on an actual drawing pad or a lined notebook, mumbling excitedly under his breath, regardless if he was thinking of new things for the team, or just drawing to pass the time. “You’re not doing _anything._ ”

“W-What’s that supposed to mean?” Juuru asks, furrowing his eyebrows in mock anger. (Tametomo only knows it’s fake because, well, Juuru’s voice doesn’t hold any heat.) “Why can’t I just _do nothing_? Is that so weird? Am I not allowed to take a break? What if my wr—no, uhm, what if, uhm, that is…!”

The alarms in Tametomo’s head ring louder.

He takes a step forward, and it’s mostly a gamble— _mostly—_ as he reaches behind Juuru only to procure whatever it was he’d been hiding. Tametomo ignores Juuru’s halfhearted yelling and his careful flailing as he looks down at the first aid kit in his hand.

“This isn’t exactly _nothing,_ ” Tametomo points out, skeptical.

“Uh, well, Tame-kun—“ Juuru looks at the floor, face reddening so quickly he feels as though he might faint. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, he didn’t even _mean_ to get caught trying to tend to his wrist, but he must have used all the luck he had on the last battle. Juuru was _sure_ he’d used it all up, that it was the reason he’d only _sprained_ his wrist instead of _broken_ it; although he’s thankful he hadn’t broken it, why did it seem like these things only happened to him?

Except, maybe a little luck lingers about. After all, whatever it was that Juuru thought Tametomo would do, sitting down next to him and holding out his hand _wasn’t_ one of them.

As he looks at Tametomo’s hand, his palm up and waiting, Juuru feels himself flush for a completely different reason.

“Tame…kun?”

“I’ll wrap your wrist for you.”

“What?” Juuru shakes his head vigorously as he watches Tametomo open the kit one handed. He _continues_ to shake his head as he watches the other get out the unraveled adhesive bandage, which had been messily thrown back into the kit upon getting caught. It’s only when Tametomo looks his way again that Juuru stops and says, “No, I can…”

“But, you tried, didn’t you?” Tametomo asks, his smile on the edge of laughter.

Juuru glares at him, and it only makes the laughter spill from Tametomo’s mouth because glaring is basically a confirmation.

“Come on, Juuru,” Tametomo says, beckoning with his outstretched hand.

It’s silent for a moment before Juuru sighs, but he doesn’t really _feel_ as defeated as he tries to sound as he mumbles, _“fine.”_ He lifts his hand, setting it in Tametomo’s as he tries desperately to _not_ think too hard about how gentle his fellow Kiramager is being, or how warm his fingers are, or—

“It happened in the last battle, right?” Tametomo asks, interrupting Juuru’s thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, uh…” Juuru trails off, watching as Tametomo wraps the bandage around his wrist. It’s as the other is adjusting his hand, securing the bandage across his palm, that Juuru looks away. Feeling Tametomo’s hand on his and actually _seeing_ it, well… it wasn’t hard to figure out _why_ he felt shy. Juuru ignores the way he feels his face redden. “Yeah,” he murmurs with a nod. “Last battle.”

It hadn’t been a difficult battle—far from it. They’d handled it smoothly, efficiently, up until the moment the enemy had split its body in two. It had thrown them all for a loop, knocking them completely off rhythm—there had been two different Marrskman-like happenings at once around the city, but they hadn’t thought the enemy could _literally split itself in two_. Thinking back on it, they should have kept their formation tighter, shouldn’t have put too much of a gap between each other, especially with the knowledge of two different happenings. The possibility of the enemy creating two of itself hadn’t even occurred to them.

Juuru remembers his initial shock, remembers the Marrskman’s throaty laugh grating against his ears; and he remembers, distinctively, the way his body seemed to move on its own. “When I… tackled you…” Juuru mutters.

Tametomo raises an eyebrow, gaze flicking toward Juuru and then to his task at hand. It dons on him, then, what Juuru’s talking about. He wraps the bandage around Juuru’s wrist one finale time before he smoothes the end of it into place a couple of times, just because he could. “Oh,” Tametomo says, and then, “you… that _was_ kinda careless.”

Juuru’s head snaps up. He narrows his eyes as he looks at Tametomo. “Well, yeah, but I didn’t want you to get hit. You saw what that attack did to that tree! Literally blew it up from the inside! Like lightning was trying to get out from its core, or something! I think I _still_ have splinters in my arm, Tame-kun!”

Although Juuru had a point, Tametomo couldn’t help but laugh. He lifts a hand, but he keeps his other one on Juuru’s wrist, because it was the next best thing to holding his hand, again. Tametomo covers his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckles, and snorts until it becomes a full on _laugh,_ shaking his shoulders and threatening to spill tears.

“W-What! Why are you laughing?!”

“No, it’s—“ Tametomo stumbles over another laugh, and maybe it’s because his laughter is making him feel a bit breathless, like he’s walking on air, but he can’t help himself. He’s always been one for indulging himself and now isn’t any different. Tametomo drops his hand, palm to the back of Juuru’s hand, curling his fingers to the side of Juuru’s hand. That surprised expression is there, again—wide eyes, lips parted in shock; Tametomo stares, and he stares, _and he stares,_ all the while struggling to hold back bits of laughter. His thumb grazes Juuru’s knuckles as he says, “Were you trying to be cool, or something?”

Juuru’s face lights up, darker than his uniform. “What is that supposed to even mean!” he yells, jaw slack in shock. He doesn’t pull away, though—only leans in, pressing his arm to Tametomo’s as he tries to sound as threatening as he could. “Are you _trying_ to be mean _?!_ Do I need to bring out an easel?”

“Oh, _no,”_ Tametomo says, rolling his eyes. He shoves against Juuru playfully, cheeks hurting as Juuru shoves back. “Anything but that.”

Juuru laughs, but it sounds more like a cackle than anything. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the sound of the door opening has them pulling away from whatever world they’d made themselves. Tametomo pulls his hands away just as Sayo peeks into the little room off the command center, and he doesn’t have time to think about the look on Juuru’s face as she says, “I was wondering what all that commotion was. So, it was you two.”

“Oh, uh…” Juuru turns to her, wide eyed, but he schools his expression shockingly well; that indescribable look was off his face in a matter of seconds. He nods, trying for a smile as he says, “yeah,” although his tone was completely off.

Tametomo swallows at the lump in his throat, and looks anywhere that isn’t Sayo’s general direction. He could feel her eyes on him, and Tametomo’s sure she’s giving Juuru that same, calculating look. She was too good at reading people, and some days he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad one.

“Juuru…” she steps forward, her head tilting as she walks up the few steps toward them. “Your hand…”

“Oh, well—!”

“I’ve gotta head out,” Tametomo says, cutting Juuru off. He doesn’t look at either of them as he nods in a silent good bye before stalking out of the command center.

***

He’d been avoiding her for as long as he could manage. It was easy, at first—there hadn’t been many enemies popping up, just a couple here and there, but it still caused HQ to become strangely silent. Tametomo took it as a sign, though—a little breather was exactly what he needed.

It happens not too long after Sayo had seen them, sitting there, in each other’s space, when she manages to corner him. Really, he had barely even _had_ a breather.

“Do you like Juuru?” she asks.

“H-Huh?” Tametomo huffs incredulously. He looks away from the way she’s glaring up at him and shuffles closer into the _literal corner_ she had him trapped in. “Straight to the point like always, huh?”

“It’s a perk of being in the medical field,” Sayo tells him, rolling her eyes. “Don’t try to change the subject. I asked you a question.”

“Are you going to let me through? I have an online meet-up I have to attend.”

“Not until you answer me.”

“Sorry, Sayo, I already forgot the question.”

“That’s fine,” she says, and Tametomo realizes too late he’d said the wrong thing once her lips quirk upward in a sly smile. “I have enough energy to ask all day, if you want. Do you—?”

“No. Are you happy now?” he asks, and goes to brush past her, except she’s a step ahead.

Sayo stops him with a firm hand to his chest, pushing him back to where he had been just five seconds ago. He opens his mouth, probably to retort, but the look she gives him has Tametomo clamping his mouth shut. “I’m not happy being lied to,” she says. “I’m not an idiot. I _know_ you.”

Tametomo looks away. He can feel his hands clam up, can feel his ears grow hotter and hotter the more she stares at him, the more the phrase _I_ know _you_ rings in his ears. The only thing he can wonder, in the moment, is how he had been so transparent. _Uncool,_ he thinks, and then asks her, “How could you have even known that?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s painfully obvious. Have you _seen_ yourself, in comparison to when you’re talking to him versus when you’re talking to, let’s say, _me_?”

“W-What?” Tametomo splutters, furrowing his eyebrows. He can feel his nerves in his stomach, itching up his throat; he thought he’d hidden it fairly well. “It… it really can’t be that different.”

“It is. It made even _more_ sense after I saw you two the other day. He told me, you know. Juuru did.” Sayo steps back, giving Tametomo more space. With the way his shoulders are hunched and the way he’s staring fixatedly at the wall, she doubts he’d try to run now. “He told me you wrapped his wrist for him. Could you really picture yourself doing that for anyone else?”

Tametomo laughs, but it’s more of a huff of breath than anything.

“He wears a yellow bracelet, for Crystalia’s sake.”

“Shut up,” Tametomo says. He glares at her even as his ears grow warmer than ever, even as he wonders if it means something; and then he’s angry at himself because it was _such_ a silly thing to get worked up over. “That could mean anything.”

Sayo rolls her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m only telling you this once. You’d know a lot more than you do right now if you talked to him.”

“But, it’s…”

“It’s _not_ different. You can’t say that, you can’t use it as an excuse, Tametomo.” Sayo means to chide him gently, but she cannot help a little bit of edge seep into her voice.

They stand there in silence until Tametomo groans, shaking his head vigorously.

“I, uh, I was kinda mean to him, the other day.” He looks up at her, and when he sees that her expression is genuinely curious, he doesn’t look away. Tametomo leans against the wall, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sayo step forward only to copy him, sliding down until she’s right next to him. “I told him, uh. Well, I kind of snapped and said that not all of us could be as cheerful and sunny as him when he mentioned I wasn’t acting like my usual self.”

“And you stormed off?” she guesses.

“And I stormed off,” he confirms.

Sayo shakes her head, fighting a smile. “I understand… _why…_ you aren’t acting like your usual self. Especially toward him,” she adds. “Though, Tametomo…you really can be such an idiot.”

“You _really_ don’t need to be so blunt,” Tametomo groans, and Sayo just laughs.

“Really, though. You should talk to him. Apologize.”

“Easier said than done.”

Sayo doesn’t mean to let out a laugh, but she does, simply because Juuru had said the same thing.

_(“You like Tametomo, don’t you?” she asked._

_Predictably, Juuru yelped, spinning around to face her with a hand over his racing heart. He hadn’t even heard her walk up behind him. Juuru has to double check to make sure she’s even_ wearing _shoes. “W-What?”_

_Sayo smiled at him gently. “Must I really repeat myself, Juuru?”_

_He looked away, nervous laughter erupting from his lips. “It’s, uhm…”_

_“Juuru,” she said, with as much firmness and gentleness as she could while gesturing to his wrist. Juuru would be easier to talk to than Tametomo, which was why she cornered him first. “Why else would you join the volunteers at the pediatric ward in making bracelets? A yellow one, at that,” she clarified._

_Juuru looked at her, a mix of awe and complete shock. “You_ saw _that?!”_

_“I…I wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was you,” she confessed. “You were dressed differently, and when I asked the coordinator, she said she wasn’t sure, either. But, I saw the little girl we had saved a few weeks ago next to you, so…so, really, asking that was more of a gamble than anything.”_

_Juuru looked at her, full of doubt. “I’m not sure you should be confessing to taking a gamble when you’re a surgeon.”_

_“Regardless,” Sayo continued, waving off his comment as if he hadn’t said it at all. “I was right.”_

_“Uh, that, it’s…” Juuru hesitated, a bundle of nervous flutters in the pit of his stomach. She_ was _right, and maybe that was the problem; someone else knew, although he had tried to hide it as well as he could. Juuru had this thought then, that perhaps helping make bracelets with and for the children at the hospital hadn’t been a good idea—but what was he supposed to do?_ Not _say yes to the little girl they had saved?_

_“Juuru,” Sayo murmurs, effectively pulling him from his inner turmoil._

_Instead of words, Juuru simply nods while his face grew hot._

_“Will you tell him?”_

_“Well, t-that’s—“_

_“You either wait for him to tell you,” she said, taking a step forward. Sayo poked at his shoulder, narrowing her eyes._ Simple, straight, and to the point, _she thought. The sooner they confessed, the sooner they’d stop dancing around each other—mainly Tametomo, but it still applied. If the two of them couldn’t work together, how else would the team function? Sayo could only sigh internally at the miscommunication within the team—again, mainly Tametomo and Juuru, but it_ still _applied. “Or you tell him.”_

_“Easier…said than done,” Juuru muttered._

_“I know,” she murmured, reaching out to take his hand in hers. Sayo squeezed his hand, channeling as much courage and hope as she could into that touch. “But, you two would be happier for it, you know?”)_

“I know,” Sayo murmurs. She leans against him, patting his arm as she thinks that, perhaps, her words would make some magic if repeated twice. “But, you two would be happier for it, you know?”

Tametomo thinks about it, mulling it over before he nods, just slightly. “Yeah,” he murmurs, taking a bit of comfort from the way she’s patting his arm. Sayo was good at that—comforting, making him unravel his thoughts and untangle his feelings so that he’d be able to think with a clear head. “Yeah, Sayo. You’re right.”

***

Juuru’s in HQ alone again the next time Tametomo sees him.

He’s sitting where they sat a week ago, in the same spot, but this time he’s got a drawing pad in his lap instead of a first aid kit hidden behind his back. There’s a pencil in his hand, and a little yellow and red striped pencil case next to him, with a diamond charm on the zipper.

Sayo’s words come back to him, _he wears a yellow bracelet, for Crystalia’s sake,_ and really, honestly, Tametomo swears _to_ Crystalia, he doesn’t mean to keep himself hidden. Juuru must not have heard the door to the command room open, because he hadn’t looked up expectantly like he usually would’ve. It happened on instinct, really, the way Tametomo had jumped back behind the wall upon seeing Juuru sitting there, _alone._

But, maybe, this was an opportunity.

_You two would be happier for it, you know?_

Tametomo peeks from where he’s hidden, scanning for any hint of yellow on Juuru’s wrists. He feels like an idiot; how much more transparent could he be? He was never one to pine, so why now, of all times? Tametomo shakes his head as he hides behind the wall again, glaring at the table in the center of the command room. _Get a grip,_ he tells himself, and then he’s stepping away from the wall.

As nonchalantly as he can, Tametomo turns the corner, and tries to act like it’s the first time in the past five minutes he’s seen Juuru, just sitting there.

Juuru still doesn’t look up. His hand isn’t moving, nor are his lips moving in a lightening, mumbling speed.

Tametomo walks up the few steps carefully, brows furrowing together the closer he gets. Juuru still isn’t reacting, even as he’s standing _right_ in front of him.

“Uh…Juuru?”

“Wh—aah!” Juuru flails as he shrieks, causing his drawing pad to fly out of his hand and onto the floor, and Tametomo can’t help but be thankful he didn’t send that pencil flying, too; who _knows_ where that would have ended up. Tametomo bends down just as Juuru does. “T-Tame-kun—“

“Hu—ow!”

“Ouch!”

Tametomo steps back, hand to his forehead as Juuru leans away, mimicking the pose with both hands.

“T-Tame-kun!” Juuru sounds frantic. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. I just—jeez, man, how hard is your head?” Tametomo laughs though, breathless as he bends down to retrieve Juuru’s drawing pad. He steps forward only to sit down next to him, offering up what was dropped. “…Sorry about that. I should’ve announced myself sooner. Is your head okay?”

“Oh, uh…” Juuru trails off, wide eyed as he takes his drawing pad back. He nods, glancing Tametomo’s way before he looks away. Juuru focuses on flipping the drawing pad shut all the while his mind races. Wasn’t Tametomo angry at him? Why was he here, sitting next to him? Juuru blinks rapidly, trying to get a handle on all the thoughts running through his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters with a smile, hoping his smile looks at least halfway normal. “I’m fine. Didn’t hurt.”

Tametomo sighs something along the lines of, _and just how hard is your head again,_ before silence settles over them.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly _comfortable,_ either. They sat there, unmoving; Juuru was rigid beside Tametomo, who was trying too hard to be relaxed. It goes on like that until Tametomo couldn’t take it any longer.

“Is your wrist okay?” he asks in a rush, glancing down at Juuru’s hands. The adhesive bandage was on neither of them, so Tametomo reaches for the hand closest to him. He tugs at Juuru’s sleeve only to have Juuru gasping and pulling his hand away; but, he’d already _seen it there_.

 _That’s…_ Tametomo thinks, lifting his gaze to Juuru’s frantic expression.

Juuru covers his right wrist with his left hand, eyes wide. “T-That’s the wrong hand. And yes, it’s, it’s better. I can comfortably draw again.”

“Oh.” Tametomo nods, gaze flickering down toward the wrist Juuru was covering. _A yellow bracelet, what the hell,_ he thinks, and nods. “I see. That’s good.”

The silence comes back, settling over them with more discomfort than it did previously. Tametomo thinks about the fact that Sayo _wasn’t_ lying while Juuru dreads that fact that Tametomo definitely must have _seen_ it.

For the both of them, Sayo’s voice rings out in their minds clearly.

 _You should talk to him. Apologize,_ for Tametomo; and _you either wait for him to tell you, or you tell him,_ for Juuru.

Tametomo sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Uhm…”

“Y-Yes?!” Juuru squeaks.

Tametomo looks at him dubiously before continuing. “I wanted… to apologize.”

“Huh?” Juuru looks over at Tametomo quickly, eyes wide.

“For the other day. I was… an ass,” Tametomo says bluntly, pursing his lips as he nods.

“Oh, that—that’s, well, I may have been… pushy?” Juuru mutters, laughing weakly. “So, I mean…”

“Nah.” Tametomo shakes his head; he leans over to shove his shoulder against Juuru’s lightly. “You weren’t pushy. You were just worried, and I was an ass.”

“I…yeah,” Juuru admits, fighting a smile as he shoves back. “I was worried. You…” he hesitates, looking up at Tametomo to gauge a reaction before he continues. “You weren’t acting like yourself. I thought maybe something might be wrong.”

Tametomo nods before sighing, scratching at the back of his neck. “Not really… _wrong_ , exactly,” he confesses.

“…Just?” Juuru prompts, sneaking a glance over at the other. Tametomo seemed…different—not like his usual self…but more like he was trying _too hard_ to be his usual self. His mind reels with explanations upon explanations, and a thought comes to him.

 _You like Tametomo, don’t you?_ resounds in the front of his mind just as he wonders, _could it be the same?_

After all, he’d been acting different, toward Tametomo. Juuru thinks back to Mabushina’s jingling laughter when he’d knocked over his cup of tea when Tametomo had entered HQ unannounced; he thought back to Sena’s raised eyebrows when he’d stammered and stuttered when Tametomo asked him a question; and he thought back to how Shiguru had tried to teach him how to _act_ cool, calm, and collected.

 _It could be the same,_ he thought, and maybe some of that courage that bubbled up when he transformed seeped into the marrow of his bones.

Juuru leans over slowly, testing the waters even through the sudden courage. He bumps their shoulders together, and doesn’t miss the way Tametomo leans against it. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, Tame-kun, but…” Juuru twists his lips in thought before turning to face Tametomo; he gives him a wide smile, and barely catches the way Tametomo’s eyes widened. “But, I’m here to listen.”

Tametomo looks away, ears reddening as he blinks through how much _brightness_ just hit him in the face; but just maybe, that too was just what he needed. He can feel the courage swell in his chest, and usually he wouldn’t talk so frivolously, but he’d deal with the embarrassment later. It was strange, how easily it came to him, now. Tametomo turns to Juuru, who is looking at him just the same as he was moments prior: with bright eyes and a wide smile. “I think… instead of tell you, I’d want to show you.”

With a tilt of his head, Juuru says, “huh?”

He doesn’t give himself another second to think for fear he’d chicken out— _how uncool,_ he thinks, not for the second time that week. How had he become so _careful_? Tametomo pushes away all thoughts, disregarding whether he was cool or not. He reaches out, offering his palm as he says, “give me your hand.”

Juuru’s eyes widen, but they do not dim as he looks at Tametomo’s outstretched hand. Tametomo can see something, there—something that looks like what he’s feeling, but it still doesn’t stop the way his resolve diminishes the longer Juuru just _stares_ at his palm. A second passes, and another, and what seems like forever _finally_ passes until Juuru’s shoulders shake with laughter; it’s then that Tametomo releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“To…” Juuru murmurs, leaning in. He swallows down his laughter, glancing up at Tametomo’s face. There is a fiery giddiness sparking along his skin, causing his breath to come out in shaky exhales as he whispers, as if it were such a dire secret, “…tend to it?”

Tametomo rolls his eyes, heart racing all the while he leans in, too. _How has he become so cheeky,_ he wonders, looking at the mischief curving along Juuru’s smile. It wasn’t the first time Tametomo has seen it, by far, but it still made him wonder. “No, idiot,” Tametomo says fondly, courage coating his tongue, “to hold it.”

Juuru hums, and he means for it to be teasing, but it sounds more content than anything. He lifts a hand, watching as Tametomo’s palm disappears as he slips his own there, watching as Tametomo makes room between his fingers so that Juuru could fit his own there, too.

It’s quiet, and warm; they sit there, hands clasped. It’s only when Juuru lets a small laugh filter from his lips that Tametomo looks over, eyebrow raised. Juuru’s eyes don’t rise from where they’re staring, though—he studies their hands, and thinks that if he stared long enough, he’d probably be able to draw the sight from memory.

He doesn’t want to ruin the quietness of the moment, but Juuru cannot help but wonder. He glances up only to drop his gaze down toward their hands again—it’s a simple sight, something he’d see possibly anywhere he would go, but the sheer, tender simplicity of it is what makes him feel the most in awe.

“Are you… uhm…” Juuru says, breath catching in his throat. He can’t shake the feeling that he could feel their heartbeats between their hands as he clears his throat. Juuru shakes off the nervousness as best he can and looks up to find Tametomo waiting. “Feeling a bit… embarrassed?”

“I wanna say I don’t get embarrassed,” Tametomo admits, fingers twitching against Juuru’s knuckles. He brings his other hand up and scratches at his neck for what seemed like the millionth time that week. “But, I gotta say I am.”

“Yeah?” Juuru laughs, amazed by the aspect of Tametomo being _nervous_. “Me too.”

Tametomo looks at him skeptically, but he’s sure his expression falters at the ear to ear smile on Juuru’s face. “I’m…not sure if I should believe you or not.” He looks down at their hands, and wonders if it would always feel like this: strange and comforting all at the same time. “You look like you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I mean! I am! I am enjoying it,” Juuru says earnestly, leaning against Tametomo. There’s a teasing tilt to his voice again as he asks, “Does that mean you aren’t?”

Tametomo hums as though he’s _thinking_ about it, and there is a part of him that wants to mess with Juuru, but the moment was nice, and new, and it would surely bring the both of them out of their elements. So, Tametomo figures he’d be as honest as he could, despite the sheepishness.

“Nah,” he sighs easily, encouraged by how the corners of Juuru’s lips twitched upward.

This time, he knows what possesses him to keep Juuru’s hand in his own, and he knows what he’s doing. There is a name to it, now, unmasked by self doubt and uneasiness; Tametomo can feel it in the way his stomach twists and turns into complicated knots that were near impossible to unravel. It is a strange, unusual sensation, but when he looks down only to see how red the tips of Juuru’s ears are…

Tametomo squeezes Juuru’s hand one more time, and cannot help the way he has to fight a smile when Juuru squeezes back.

“I’m enjoying it,” Tametomo tells him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
